Tales Of Bakery

I haven't baked anything in quite a while.  Not even at Christmas.  It's been so long since I used the mixer, I had to wipe the dust off it before I could use it.  I had to dig through the odds and ends catch all utensil drawer to find the beaters.

I could say it was because I was trying to eat better, but since I've been buying a box of girl scout cookies any time I'm asked, and before that I was buying a 50 count box of chocolate chip cookies (and freezing them!), that is not really the reason.

It's partly the reason, though, because there is nothing like fresh baked chocolate chip cookies, with their ooey gooey goodness, and when they are still warm, I eat way more than I should.  And then the next day, I eat a few with my morning coffee.  And as a mid-morning snack, and a before dinner treat, and an evening treat as I watch my shows.....

The other reason is it is a lot of work.  After a day of work in the office, and coming home to cook dinner and cleaning up slightly, I'm usually too tired to do much of anything.  But last night the call of the cookie was so great, I baked.

I baked, my daughter sat on a chair in the kitchen, and talked, and I felt like I'd found a piece of myself that I hadn't realized I was missing.  I remembered baking cookies or brownies as an after school surprise for the kids.  I remembered dinners that I cooked that were only so-so and I redeemed it all by whipping up a sweet treat.  I remembered making and packing up cookies for so many camping trips, starting with the very first one my husband and I adventured on as still newlyweds.  I remembered drawing a chair up to the counter and having one of the kids assist me, carefully measuring flour and sugar, and having huge grins when I turned the mixer over to their small hands.

I'm not going to start baking every day, but I have promised myself I won't let months go by again.  There is nothing that says love and home like a freshly baked treat!

To The Dog Walker

To the lady whose dog pressed his slobbery, wet nose against my leg in such a friendly way and left a drenched spot on my tights as we walked past each other, don't apologize.

It didn't bother me.

And it actually made me smile all the way back to work.

I'm pretty sure there's not many people who could say a slobbery mess left by a strange dog was a good thing.  But it was!

Almost Twinsies

We are almost Twinsies as we

Order the same dish for dinner

The same salad

Accept and decline cheese in unison

One would think it is because I raised her

That she would of course like the same things as me

But she eats all the onions 

I disdainfully pull from my salad

And I stir up my pasta so the cheese and sauce marry

She leaves hers as perfectly plated

As when it arrived

We're similar

But different.

I've done my job as mother just right!

Air Held Promises

The morning was overcast, with dark gray pavement that told of recent rain; the promise of more showers was everywhere, most likely as we walked, but we felt adventurous, the girls and I.

We leaped out into our morning, and caught the rhythm of the early Saturday riser.

The people we met were just like us, wide awake, loving the wind that alternated between pushing and pulling us as we crested hills and cruised down valleys.

The air seemed to hold the promise of something other than rain.....

Spring.

Fascinating Promises

There was a time, in the not too distant past, that our house was full of boys.  There was always someone staying over, not as a guest, more like family.  They were noisy, messy, always starving, pranking, daring, making me crazy, and I miss them all like I never thought possible.

The sad fact is that a group of kids, all the same age, same grade, all hit the same milestones at the same time.  They all stand on the edge of their nests, with eyes fixed on fascinating promises at the horizon and they take that step out into air, wings opening in the freedom of flight and the sheer exhilaration life.

We stand back and watch them go, with cheers and wishes and prayers and love.

If it all goes right, someday, there will be a knock at the front door, and when opened, there will be one of those brave, young birds, standing at attention, looking oh so sharp in his pressed uniform.....

I couldn't be more proud if he was my own son!